


Auntie Goldie

by hearmyvoice



Series: Me Kin: Team Uncle Week [2]
Category: Disney Duck Universe, Disney Ducks (Comics)
Genre: Aunts & Uncles, F/M, Gen, Team Uncle Week, Teasing, Uncle-Nephew Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 08:54:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20207065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearmyvoice/pseuds/hearmyvoice
Summary: Unca' Scrooge has a girlfriend! And Donald couldn't be happier for that.





	Auntie Goldie

**Author's Note:**

> **day 2.** teasing.

Donald didn't think there were ducks the same or more rich and more amazing than his dear Unca' Scrooge, he thought sucking his thumb like any four-year-old kid would. But there he was, in a ball dedicated to the most powerful people in Duckburg.

Even if they weren't as amazing as his uncle.

Even so, being surrounded, the boy felt intimidated by so many unknown presences, and curled up in the old duck's chest, wrapping in his heartbeat like a lullaby.

"Ah wan' ta go ta th' m'or, Unca' Scrooge" babbled as he could, despite the finger in his bill and his partially distorted voice.

Even so, his caregiver seemed to understand the communicated message, and gave him a smile scooping him on his arm, holding the cane with his free hand as he continued to enter the Club, not worrying if the duckling's little hands wrinkled his deeply ironed suit.

"Dinnae worry, Donnie. Yer unkie jus' needs tae find new entrepreneurs t' socialize wit'. We willnae be here long. Besides, ye look absolutely charming in yer suit," adding, he tickled his nephew's belly, satisfied with the giggle that caused on him and dispelled his fear.

Of course, he was no longer Donald's Papa, constant visits and talks by Hortense made the infant perceive the genealogical difference between Quackmore and Scrooge; but that did not disturb the strong affection that the old Scotsman had since then.

"Besides, Ah'll be with ye all th' time. Who knows wha' yer mother would do with Unca' Scrooge if something will happen t' ye," for a few seconds he thought of joking, playfully saying that his sister would kill him if she knew that her son was injured in the care of the old duck; but he considered it knowing that this would not be the right vocabulary for a wee child.

Besides that he also didn't want to consider the possibility of the lad getting hurt. Much less being in his care.

Donald pulled his thumb from his bill at his uncle's words, giving him a smile despite the saliva that ran through his finger.

"But Ah know ye will never let anything happen to me, Unca' Scrooge. Ye're tougher than toughies after all!" With clear pride, Donald exclaimed raising a finger skyward.

Suffice it to cause a warm smile in the elder, taking with little problematic a handkerchief from the pocket of his coat to clean the nephew's salivated hand.

"That's right, Donald. And smarter than the smarties, just like ye." Finishing to clean his hand, he winked at his, self-satisfied with the smile the younger one was sketching.

After reassuring the little duckling, he firmly held his cane again and continued to enter the Gala of the Billionaire Club, saluting the millionaires he already knew.

He tried not to smile and remain stoic when Donald innocently corresponded to the greeting with a gesture and a bright look, keeping the manners learned in his short period of life.

He continued to avoid the aristocracy, furtively analyzing the face of each of them until the buffet began to glimpse, perceiving how almost immediately the child extends both hands, trying to take each snack despite the obvious distance.

"Are ye hungry? But if we ate before coming." Scrooge laughed softly, holding Donald and putting his other hand on his chest feeling his heartbeat. He finally reached the huge table and lowered the duck at his feet. "Whatever ye do, dinnae get away from Unkie Scrooge, awricht?"

He soon felt the little arms of his nephew circling one of his legs, feeling him bounce excited while trying to stand.

Wow, he was too elusive to be in the middle stage of walking, but fortunately he was just as obedient. Scrooge couldn't help a smile at it.

However, while searching for something suitable for an infant, he wondered why he had not brought the chopped fruit. As he mentioned, they had eaten something before they left for the gala, and had not considered carrying the huge duffel bag because they would not be there for a long time and would not need it.

He had clearly forgotten that he was dealing with the stomach of a four-year-old duckling.

"Do ye want a cookie, Donnie?" Looking at the boy, he took a considerable amount of the snack.

Donald nodded almost immediately.

"So soon you go to the buffet, Scrooge?" At that moment, a female voice interrupted the duck in his movements, and the youngest one clung more to the leg of his caregiver, hiding in him and at the same time wanting to protect the older.

After all, with all the riches and amazement that defined his unca', he would not be surprised if there were no good people who would try to take it away from him as happened in the stories Mama told him.

His very short stature allowing him not to see the funny smile that the Scottish's face adopted.

"Do ye appear here soon, Goldie?" Hidden in the old duck's back, Donald was baffled by the unnoticed confidence in his voice; that did not allow him to lower his guard or release his leg, though. "What did ye _find_ during me absence?

Standing on tiptoe, he tried to see the face of the person who dared to approach his uncle, being intercepted by the table that looked immense in his eyes.

Goldie's name sounded terribly familiar to him, but he couldn't identify from where. Nor could he dare to speak to his uncle and risk interrupting his conversation. It would be a lack of education, and Donald Fauntleroy Duck was anything but a ill-mannered boy.

"Don't get excited, Scroogey," however, the ease in the other voice took him off guard when they referred to his uncle in that way. And if it weren't for the timbre of voice and that unknown touch that put Uncle Scrooge's feathers on end, he would have thought it was Mommy who they were dealing with. "I haven't been much longer than you, really. And answering your question, I would say no, these rich men didn't bring anything interesting tonight; fortunately, I just found something _really_ valuable."

For some strange reason, the boy felt his caregiver's body shudder, his hiding place and attachment denying him the sighting of the plumage of his cheeks red-tinted.

"Answering yer question equally, dear Goldie, Ah woold dare tae say tha' Ah came t' see ye." Incredulous, Donald looked at the elder. A confident expression seemed to invade his features, watching as he slowly seemed to soften discreetly. "Sadly, me young chaperon seemed to get ahead."

Subsequently, he felt Uncle Scrooge's hand ruffling his hair feathers, taking the cookies stretched a little hesitantly. He heard the woman sigh in surprise before he could bite the first one.

"Young chaperone?" Listening to the small tapping of heels against the floor on the soft, slow music, Donald got even more attached to his uncle's leg, feeling his own trembling slightly, not sure if it was because of someone _they_ faced or his little dominance in walking.

But whoever it is, he would not fear defending his beloved favorite adventurous uncle. The adventure was in him since he was born under the McDuck legacy, and it would not take long to prove it to protect him.

Donald was not afraid of anyone, not even—

An elegant duck dressed in a beautiful white dress. Her blond hair, beautifully neat in a way that looked strange to him, completely bathed in a varied but beautiful selection of precious gemstones that did not compete with his mother's, shone in the great hall in such a way that he questioned how he did not distinguish her when he was in his uncle's arms—maybe, he supposed, it was because he was more focused on talking to him.

He thought he saw her green eyes wide when he felt her gaze on him.

"...Oh," she seemed to have noticed something, something he couldn't identify while holding on to Scrooge. "Who is this cute young man?"

But perceiving the discreet amount of gold that ran through her jewelry, a skill that still required improvement, added to the beauty that came off in her simple presence, Donald recalled some of the stories that Unca' tells him before he slept.

Among all the gold hunts, amazing adventures and impressive discoveries, the blurry story of, Klike?, Klondike?, yes, K’ndikay, became present.

And in it, the image of a blondie duck that accompanied and betrayed his uncle over and over again slowly became clear.

But it couldn't be her, _could it?_

"This laddie? Oh, he's me lovely nephew, Donald." Soon, he saw himself again in his uncle's arms, and settled down to keep listening to his heartbeat, stopping to eat his cookie when he perceived it faster than usual. "And dinnae be fooled. He may seem like the most adorable duckling in the world, but this little imp is a whole bit."

Involuntarily, Scrooge thought about the occasion in which Della at her two years had plotted to make a joke by dressing, acting and even speaking exactly like her brother, and how it took all afternoon in which he took care of them to distinguish one from the other.

Or how they helped each other to throw or hide the vegetables they should ate, or sneaked into the kitchen, managing to avoid even Duckworth to reach the vase of cookies in the highest cabinet, being discovered and reprimanded when the elders gave with the wasted food or they accidentally broke the vase.

And how to forget the occasion when he had to improvise an adventure in the manor when both, at age three, had hidden to avoid a visit to the doctor that involved the application of an injection? Their hiding place was discovered thanks to a sneeze and the consequent Della's reprimand. They had cried a lot, and had not spoken to him for weeks until the strong love they had made them beg for apology.

Unfortunately, Della was prey to a chicken pox, which is why he was commissioned only with the youngest twin while the female duckling was recovering; that perhaps prevented them from making a mischief during the evening, but that made them look incomplete.

"Well, it's nice to meet you Donald," the boy said nothing at the older woman's forced tone, shaking his opposite hand hesitantly at his uncle's watchful eye, "I'm Goldie O'Glit."

A few seconds passed.

Goldie... O’Glit? The name rang in a loop, and Donald had to see for not suffering a outburst that made him look like a bad duck.

Of course it sounded familiar!

"Is she the friend, Unca'?" He inquired with a glow of curiosity in his gaze, looking at his uncle as he pointed to the woman in front of them.

Not knowing the reason why his dear unca's face turned red and nervous, as well as the small laugh that evoked the elegant duck.

Scrooge smiled broadly, laughing nervously.

"Children, huh? They have a great imagination," the old Scotsman said awkwardly, unsatisfied with the amused smile on Goldie's face.

"Yes, it seems so." Goldie rolled her eyes while still smiling slyly, sensing the peculiar way in which he stopped his hand on the duck's head, stirring the hair feathers with such familiarity and warmth that she didn't think she would see in Scrooge McDuck.

Inquisitive, Donald looked at his uncle again, tilting his head in confusion. He admitted to having an overactive imagination, especially when he was with his sister, but he wasn't sure that the facts of his Unca's stories were a product of his mind.

Unless he wanted to express in the kindergarten how much he admired his uncle, and how fascinating it was to have him in his life despite spending most of his time working in his study, going out to work more in the money bin or counting his vast amount of money.

"But Unca' Scrooge..." but on that occasion it wasn't like that, and he was sure.

Being interrupted again by Scrooge.

"Wha's up, Donald? Do ye wan' tae go tae th' washroom?" What? The duckling was wondering, looking at the old Scottish man, finally perceiving his nervous expression and colored feathers. Donald sighed in surprise. "If ye'll excuse us, Goldie, Ah have work tae do."

Excusing nervously, Scrooge withdrew from the buffet feeling how slowly the knot in the pit of his stomach was falling apart, sighing with relief.

For the next gala he would remember to bring his nephew's food, or minimally small zyploc bags in which he would carry the food he could, he thought as he headed to the bathrooms at the watchful eye of his ex-partner, determined to keep his facade…

"Is she yer girlfriend, Unca' Scrooge?"

Stopping abruptly in his footsteps to observe the curiosity in the glow of his wee Donald's eyes as he slowly chewed a cookie.

"W-What?" He repeated. And no, he hadn't stuttered or got nervous, thank you very much.

Much less, his behavior had attracted more attention of the child.

"Do ye wants that lady the same way Daddy wants Mommy?" He smiled, and Scrooge could not identify whether that innocence was false or not. "Because Daddy sometimes gets like this when Mommy is near."

The old duck cleared his throat, suddenly feeling his throat dry and his sweaty brow.

"No, no, Donnie. Yer tough uncle dinnae wan' that _lady_ the same way..."

"But she was pretty!" And ye seemed to get along very well." Scrooge rolled his eyes, recognizing that Donald was still too young, innocent and gullible to understand the _complex_ relationship between Goldie and him, "can Ah call her Auntie Goldie?"

Despite the shock, his reflexes were equally fast, and he knew how to react when his grip on the duckling loosened.

Well, now he was playing with him; Scrooge already recognized the false innocent smile on his nephew's face when he was plotting something.

"Wha'? Nae!" Having to fight against his willpower so as not to redden more than he already was to satisfy the wee one, he stared at his satisfied expression behind that plump pretty face. "Donald Duck, there is nothing between Goldie and me; so ye can forget the idea of calling her yer _aunt_."

Having to wait a few seconds to appreciate how his nephew's teasing expression slowly became a pout that made him look more adorable than he already was.

"Oh, phooey." In an attempt to snap his finger, his uncle didn't see when he got sad.

"Donald, _language_," of course, he was sure that the expression was created in a moment of boredom, but something told him he didn't want to know the meaning of it.

Until the duck's gaze shone again, and he smiled for a moment.

Scrooge did not see how the duck's face changed consecutively from a pout, to that cheerful expression and how, finally, he made the brightest look he could in a vain attempt to cry.

"But..." His voice was more unintelligible than usual, and he continued when he felt his uncle's gaze on him, "in a moment Ah will have to grow up, Unca' Scrooge."

Thought that, quite honestly, the Scotsman didn't even want to think. If an adventure offered him the possibility of finding an artifact that would allow him to keep his baby like a baby forever, he would accept it without hesitation.

"Ah wooldn't want to leave ye alone when that happened, but what if Ah did? Ah would like to leave ye with someone who loved you as much as I... maybe not so much" sobbing, he snatched the buttoned shirt of Scrooge with his cookie-free hand, and hid his face in small sobs.

And the old duck didn't know what to do or say when his nephew looked at him with puppy eyes and threads of tears running down his cheeks.

He sigh heavily, leaning his back against a nearby wall, leaning his cane to the side, to affectionately disarray Donald's hair feathers.

"Donald, m'boy, Ah willnae be alone," as he expected, his nephew looked at him with a trembling beak, waiting for an explanation, and smiled sweetly, wiping his cheeks with his thumb and forefinger. What did it matter if someone saw him acting so fatherly? Anyone would expect to see that with an lovable bairn in his arms. "Ah will have all me money..."

"But that's something material, unca', and mommy says family is the most important thing."

Of course, Hortense would say that, Scrooge thought seeing the boy's confused expression, smiling before approaching and planting loud kisses on his face.

"But ye will always be me family, Donnie. Della, Hortense, Quackmore, yer Auntie Matilda, even yer cousin Gladstone" he tried not to laugh at the pout created by the boy at the mention of the goose following the strange resentment that enveloped the luck of both bairns. "Regardless of distance, time, or circumstances, we will continue to be family."

"Ah know, Ah know, but..."

"Besides, I know that this heart is so big not to leave this old duck on his own." Of course, he considered himself more than capable of taking care of himself from minor threats like Glomgold or the Beagle Boys, but feeling Donald's steady heartbeat as he stabilizes, he acknowledged being right.

Now he understood why the wee child loved to feel his.

Meanwhile, the young duck could not help smiling in shock. He had waited for the right moment to ask his uncle about the alleged marriage to Goldie, waiting for his replies about the so-called _crocodile tears_ that Della and he had used so many times.

But he had obtained something better.

Unca' Scrooge does not usually speak with him so sincerely and familiarly, considering unnecessary feelings for business, which made him cherish the occasions when he looked like someone else.

"Then there won't be Auntie Goldie?" Trying to sound disappointed, he stopped his hand over Scrooge's. The smile at his bill was what gave him away, though.

"There willnae be Auntie Goldie," he carried his nephew on his hip and took his cane again. "And if ye excuse me, laddie, this unca' needs tae go tae the washroom and refuses tae leave his nephew alone."

He heard the duckling snort and eat the last cookie.

"Ye shoold consider adult diapers now, Unca'. You said it, you're an old duck." He finally dared to tease, suppressing laughter.

Scrooge snort, smiling amusedly perceiving the laughter that the lad was trying awkwardly to hide.

"Well, Ah also think someone shoold consider wearing diapers again. Because if my _old_ memory doesn't fail me, that someone wet the bed."

Of course, Donald sighed indignantly, putting a hand on his chest dramatically.

"If Ah may say, sir, that only happened once, a long time ago. Imma' big boy now.” He swelled his chest, looking more adorable than like an adult, and Scrooge rolled his eyes, still smiling.

"Aye, ye are." Tougher than toughies, huh?

Scrooge knew it would be a long night in which his reputation was at risk, but he knew it would be worth it if it involves seeing Donald smile until his bedtime will come.

**Author's Note:**

> Donald is a very proud and instinctive child for his age 8)
> 
> A small headcanon that emerged while writing this is that he used to speak Scottish Gaelic as a child. It wasn't too ofter and very perfect, but he learned to speak it in a very basic way after listening to his mother, uncle and aunt speak it since he was born until the death of his parents, being there where he stopped doing it permanently because he considered it disrespectful.
> 
> Said headcanon was published on Tumblr a few days ago; so if you find it you know who wrote it ;D


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